La Valliere became as white as a marble statue.
“This person,” continued Madame, “is not in Paris at this moment; but, if I am not mistaken, is, just now, in England.”
“Yes, yes,” breathed La Valliere, almost overwhelmed with terror.
“And is to be found, I think, at the court of Charles II.; am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, this evening a letter has been dispatched by Madame to Saint James’s, with directions for the courier to go straight to Hampton Court, which I believe is one of the royal residences, situated about a dozen miles from London.”
“Yes, well?”
“Well; as Madame writes regularly to London once a fortnight, and as the ordinary courier left for London not more than three days ago, I have been thinking that some serious circumstance alone could have induced her to write again so soon, for you know she is a very indolent correspondent.”
“Yes.”
“This letter has been written, therefore, something tells me so, at least, on your account.”